


Lullaby

by nulldoesnotexist



Series: Thrice [1]
Category: Beetlejuice - All Media Types, Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Dreams, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Kinda freeform, References to a song, Saying Goodbye to Family is Hard, There's one Vague Dirty Joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 15:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21283640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nulldoesnotexist/pseuds/nulldoesnotexist
Summary: Lydia finally rationalized to herself that she was glad to have the opportunity to know what was happening. It was different than her mother’s death. She can say goodbye. And at the very least, she had faith she’d meet them again, somehow. In that world beyond death.But still, the sting of dried tears and frustration made her shiver and droop quickly into sleep.
Relationships: Beetlejuice & Lydia Deetz, Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz, Lydia Deetz & Adam Maitland & Barbara Maitland
Series: Thrice [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534982
Kudos: 62





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written something in forever. My version of Beetlejuice is heavily inspired by the musical and the cartoon, and the story follows after the events of the musical.  
Thank you for taking your time out of you day to read it!

“Sweet Dreams, Lydia.” Barbara bid quietly as she and Adam slid by the doorway on their way up to their stead in the attic.   
  
Lydia turned over and said nothing more than a yawn. It seemed she was falling asleep at a decent time tonight. It helped that she already tired herself out from crying.

* * *

  
/ **Earlier that day./**   
  
In the past two years, things have settled in the Deetz-Maitland household. There were some rough edges that scraped against each other in lieu of aesthetics of the house, but generally, working compromises were put in place. Barbara and Adam had resettled in the Attic, which was cleared of junk, pasted with wallpaper, filled with their old bedroom’s set for the sake of atmosphere. It was Delia’s suggestion to track down their old bed and nightstands for them, as a friendship offering or out of her own guilt. Charles decided to maximize the opportunity by flipping the room into something more comfortable overall.

That was fine then. Needless to say, they were genuinely touched by the effort.    
Delia and Charles were unexpectedly very inclusive of the Maitlands in their future projects on the house. 

They even gave them a model of the town, quaint and charming Winter River, as a way for them to see beyond the limits of the house. Charles and Lydia also excitedly presented them with plans of making the Maitlands a second space in the Basement.

But Lydia could still tell something was off when they accepted the renovation. At first she wondered if it was because that was the place they were last in their bodies, but they seemed peaceable about their deaths by now. As an increasingly straightforward young lady, she asked them what was up as soon as her other set of parents left the room.

“What? Everything’s fine.” Adam rigidly tried to play casual. “Better than fine, right?”   
  
Barbara’s face betrayed what he was trying to convey, though. She was more forthright than her husband. “Just...Don’t you feel like we’re imposing?”   
  
Lydia’s face fell. “No! You’re family.” She stared at them, worried.

Barbara bit her lip and imitated a deep draw of breath perfectly. “Lydia. I'm so lucky to have you in my afterlife. But this isn’t our home anymore. I don’t know how long we can-”   
  
“Can what? Put up with me?” Lydia said, devastating and quietly.   
  
Adam came to Barbara’s side. “No! That’s not it at all.” He sighed, trying to find the strength to continue in wife’s place. “We love you, Lydia. We love Delia and Charles. But how long can we expect you and them to keep doing things like this?” 

Lydia frowned. She had always worried about this. How long she had with them before they’d leave her. She just didn’t want to confront that fact now when she felt she still had time.

Barbara tried to show Lydia her love with a cold, ghostly hug. But Lydia stood slack, still looking for them to explain themselves.

“Please. We couldn’t ever just leave you, Lydia. But someday you know you have to let us go. What about when you’re older? You’ll have to leave here someday sooner than you think. We couldn’t just bear it if we were the reason you stuck yourself here in this house for much longer than you should. Especially since B-  _ that man _ isn’t here anymore.”

“That man? You guys were only staying because you felt like you needed to protect me from other ghosts?” The young girl’s voice felt like glass. 

“No we only wanted to stay because we wanted to be with you.” Adam intervened. “We wanted nothing more!”

“Please, sweetheart. We just don’t want to make this worst for you. We can’t afford to be selfish about your life.” 

Barbara looked to be in immense pain as she tried to make Lydia understand. She soon would graduate and have to leave for college. She was sure her parents would be fine to further house the ghosts, but what would happen when they-    
  
“Oh.” Lydia said quietly. Memories of her mother played in the background of her mind. She simply pat Barbara’s form in response, silently asking to be released. “I think I’m gonna go work on my homework now.”

“Alright.” Barbara whispered out as she retracted herself.

“Let us know if you need any help.” Adam offered, his brow crooked from trying to remain anything but a sad mess.    
  
The Maitlands watched somberly Lydia as she left, despondent and shaking as she made her way upstairs to her room. 

* * *

**/And Now./**

**  
** Lydia finally rationalized to herself that she was glad to have the opportunity to know what was happening. It was different than her mother’s death. She can say goodbye. And at the very least, she had faith she’d meet them again, somehow. In that world beyond death.But still, the sting of dried tears and frustration made her shiver and droop quickly into sleep.

Lydia’s dreams, were vivid. They were filled with colors and shapes and fun or strange beings.

  
But none as strange or fun as him.    
  
The sky was purple and green. She was sitting on a hill filled with tall and thick grass. There were massive spider webs weaving paths between drooping trees full of dark red apples. Where had she ended up now? She felt a presence encroach upon her in the grass. She waited slowly as it slithered to her side. 

“Hi Beej.” She said plainly.

He apparated, forming from a pile of striped squirming snakes. “Hey kid.” He said with the same plain tone, as if to mock her or sound less excited to see her. He pretended to fix his disheveled and dirty suit’s lapels and stepped to the side into her view. “How we doin’?”

Lydia smirked. “Just fine.” 

Truth is, she absolutely was not. He could tell. Also she couldn’t tell that he could tell. Or could she? He wasn’t sure anymore. But the bottom line was that she looked like someone made her cry a lot.

“What happened to you?” He asked, figuring it had to do with some sort of teenage experience. “I’ll kill him.”

Lydia sighed. “Nothing. Let’s go do something.” She changed the subject, despite being entertained by his suggestion. She treated this version of him as an extension of her subconscious, despite the fact he had been appearing in her dreams rather frequently. 

“Are we in the Neitherworld right now?”   
  
“Nah I think this is all you.” Betelgeuse looked all around, chuckling. “Why do you wanna go? Because if we do, you might oversleep again.”

Neitherworld and Netherworld were two different things, Lydia learned; or rather guessed.    
  


Whenever Betelgeuse seemed to make an appearance in her dreams, he often whisked her away for them to observe the ins and outs of the Neitherworld. To her, it seemed like a dimension in which she had all the abilities of a ghost back home.As in,she couldn’t interact or touch with what was there, and very few could see her. Not that she minded, she had enough fun just observing the outlandish place he called “home”. 

Despite it all seemingly being a fantasy her subconscious came up with, she felt safer knowing Juno had became sandworm chow if it had proved to be more like the place she visited before.

“Why not? I need something else to think about.”   
  
“Nah babes, I think you should keep it in your own head.” He had took her hand and twirled her to look at him. “Why do you need something else to think about?”

She bristled slightly as he told her no to. Odd. “Fine, lets go climb one of those trees.” She slid past him, through the thick brush of tall grass. 

Betelgeuse huffed, seriously getting impatient with her dejected attitude. He wanted an explanation, as his source of primary entertainment in these things were her. And if she was going to be in a sour mood, it wasn’t as fun. 

But still, she wouldn’t give in as she climbed the base of one of the dipping trees.She managed to climb all the way up to one of the spider web canopies above. Her hand brushed curiously against a strew of web. It played a familiar melody. She could see Betelegeuse looking up at her from the ground. He had one of the dark apples and was sniffing it before taking a bite.

“Are they rotten?” She asked, as she stroked the web to continue its melody.   
  
“Not enough, for my taste.” He threw it somewhere into the grass below. “Why the hell are you playing The Cure? I mean. Big Fan. But why?”

Lydia removed her hand from the web with wonder. “It was a song my mom liked.” She remembered. “It's called Lullaby.”   
  
“I know what it is.” Betelgeuse ran a hand through his greasy hair, that fluffed with green. He decided to climb the tree himself, because what the hell. He’s lived a long time and has had too much time on his hands to venture into people’s record collections. He climbed up to a branch parallel to her, lying on his side in a casual way, despite it being a pathetic-looking branch to support him. “Wanna be the spider or the fly?” He winked.

Lydia side glanced to him for a moment, before jumping off her branch straight into the spiderweb bridge between the trees to climb across it. She scrambled with difficulty as the path jangled the familiar melody, while Betelgeuse found it amusing that she would engage a game of tag she could not possibly win.

She had almost cleared the path to the next tree, only for her arm to get stuck in a gap, as she swung around, now completely entangled in the web. She waited as she just knew Betelgeuse was smugly sitting on air next to her. She gave him an unamused expression.   
  
“ And there is nothing I can do, when I realize with fright-” Betelguse recited lyrics as he enclosed on her. “That the Spiderman is having me for dinner tonight.”

“If you eat me, we can’t be friends.” Lydia barbed. 

  
Betelgeuse’s expression mocked horror. “Please Lyds, I am a man of taste.” He began to unwind her out of the musical web. “You aren’t properly terrified, messes with the flavor.”

“Just get me out, BeeEE-” Lydia fell straight through, before being caught in striped arms. She straightened herself out as she climbed back down onto solid ground. Or as far as she could tell in all this grass.

“That was a nice scream.” He chuckled as he watched her hop from him to the ground.  “I’d give it a solid BeeeeEE!”

Lydia cracked a smile at the horrible pun, and Betelgeuse felt like he was finally getting somewhere. She seemed to walk aimlessly now, still away from him. He sighed gruffly.

“Lyds. Sit. Now.” He wasn’t asking. 

She turned back to him, as he was looking oddly serious. Maybe her subconscious was tired of trying to focus on other things. She decided what else she could do and joined him in the tall grass.

“Now. What the fuck is your problem?”    
  
Lydia released a sigh and sank back on her arms. Her hand swept against something in the grass, which felt flat and pointy. She pulled the mystery object from it and placed it in front of her to see.

“Adam and Babs.” Betelgeuse voiced, now looking at the same wedding portrait that graced their house, or at least in a different room. He wondered if they were still sexy but knew that they were boring. He scratched at his gruff, seemingly in thought. “I don’t know babes, some picture of the Maitlands, some old song your mom liked. You gotta give me more clues if I’m supposed to blues’clues this bullshit outta ya.”

Lydia bit her lip a bit, to hold back the tears she thought she shedded enough of while she was awake. “They’re gonna leave me too.”

He stiffened. Well of course, they had to one day, even if his unpleasant mother wasn’t going to casework them into the next step of their afterlife. 

“It’ll be just like mom...just like you.” She added hoarsely. “At least I get to dream you a bit.”   
  
Betelgeuse swallowed hard, looking terrified. So she didn’t know. He was immediately worried if him admitting the real thing was hanging out with her most nights would make her feel better or worse. He didn’t exactly  _ try  _ to deceive her to begin with. He couldn’t help that they now had this weird bond thingy from their sham marriage that he knew for the better he shouldn’t bring up. In fact, he swore she had to have known, how else would she think up all these gags herself. He was almost offended.

“Babes. Your imagination ain’t that good.” He murmured out.

Lydia wiped her cheeks, confused and pondering the statement.

He leaned forward and looked straight into her eyes. His decay and dirt were in crystal clear view rather than the blurry vagueness of her other dreams. It was too real. “I’m flattered that you think you’d remember me this well.”   
  


Lydia’s eyes widened and she thought she should be scared, but nothing came. No fear or dread, just sudden relief. She wanted to hug him like she did when they last parted in the living world. She inched towards him and he swept her into an embrace.

“C’mere, lil scarecrow.”

They shared a hug. Her face scrunched from the familiar smell. This was definitely a vivid dream.

She parted gently. “I used to be able to dream about my mom a lot. Maybe she was actually there..” She suddenly looked hopeful. “Is that why they call sleeping ‘The Little Death’? Maybe it's easier to connect the dead to the living?”    
  
“Actually Lyds, they call something else that..” Betelgeuse smirked. “But I can show you what that means..” He quickly thought it better not to push his luck. “..Actually um, so maybe she did visit you. Why couldn’t the Maitlands one day?” 

Lydia smiled. “You’re right.” She wondered about it. “Even if not, it's not goodbye forever.”

Betelgeuse grinned, and messed her hair playfully. He was glad she was in better spirits.   
Lydia ducked away from his messing, and grabbed his hand. He froze in place, curious.

“Thanks Beetlejuice.” She said, still holding it. She had noted it. For all the dreams she vaguely remembered, he acted oddly subdued and decent towards her. Not once had he mentioned her calling him.That's why she thought it was just her imagining him, controlling him. But he was actually there, helping her. “You really are my best friend.”

Betelgeuse was wholly flustered by how grateful and mushy she was acting. He could feel himself turning and rather questionable shade, quite literally. “Yeah uh you too, kid.”

  
He had to go. He slowly removed his hand from her and shoved it into his dingy pocket.   
“Make good with the Maitlands before they go.” He clicked his teeth and winked. “And Call me sometime.” And as his pink self disappeared, he left her to think about what it all meant..

Lydia sank into the dream grass, to sleep restfully for the remainder of the night.

She would cherish the time she had left with her ghostly parents. After all, she wouldn’t be completely alone anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I consider the Neitherworld/Netherworld to be two separate places. Beetlejuice has brought Lydia to the Neitherworld in their dream adventures.  
However in the dreamscape of things, Lydia can only be in the background of it while she's asleep. The world in her dream is made from her subconscious.
> 
> I hope it wasn't too confusing!
> 
> Thank you again for reading.


End file.
